


Between Two Lifetimes

by lovelyday86



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 08:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19884364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyday86/pseuds/lovelyday86
Summary: Of all the people in the palace, he had accidentally come face to face with Lee Taeyong, omega Crown Prince of the Western kingdom and his soon-to-be husband"Are you a part of the Eastern Prince's entourage?""I'm -" Youngho falters. "My name is Johnny, Your Highness." The lie falls from Youngho's lips without a second thought.





	Between Two Lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Prompt N-12

“It could be worse,” Youngho says to the giant framed painting on the wall opposite his bed. “You could be ugly.” 

It's a terribly shallow thought, but in his current situation Youngho supposes he deserves a little bit of leeway. Perhaps to the average person an image of their fiance would be comforting, but to an alpha Crown Prince only weeks away from his arranged marriage things are slightly different. 

The room he's staying in is as luxurious as he knew it would be; the Western Kingdom was never going to spare any expense in order to impress him. More than anything else, Youngho is impressed by their efforts: the attention to detail and the warm reception. 

Growing up royal in one of the oldest and most powerful nations meant he had never wanted for anything. Most people had been under the assumption that he would grow up to become a spoiled brat playboy prince like many before him. But his parents hadn't raised him that way, and Youngho would spent most of his adolescence proving to his people that he would become the Crown Prince that they deserved. 

Even then, no matter how many children he held in his arms or hospital bed sides he visited, there were still some that doubted him. A political marriage would help.

It's quite late and his hair, still damp from the shower, falls into his eyes. Youngho is embarrassed to admit that it had taken him a long time to figure out how to operate the various contraptions in the bathroom. There was a touch screen for the lights, a panel to control the temperature of the heated floor, automatic dispensers for all sorts of soap, lotions, creams, essential oils, and the abomination that was a bath bomb. 

That was before he could get anywhere near the shower. 

His pride kept him from asking one of his personal guards for help from the palace staff. He couldn't even scream in frustration without risking one of them barging into his room, thus causing a chain of events that could eventually lead to an international incident. Youngho, who was guilty of indulging in the occasional hand drawn bath in a stone tub, had even yelped when water jets sprayed him from all sides after the sliding glass door of the shower closed and fogged automatically. 

Yelping is unbecoming of a prince. The voice of Youngho's old etiquette tutor still sounds very clear in his mind.

He sneezes and Youngho groans, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

It is practically a royal secret that Youngho has poor eyesight. It is a rare trait in alphas and absolutely unacceptable for someone of his stature so Youngho only ever wears glasses in the privacy of his own bedroom. Even his own parents have rarely seen him wearing them since he was a teenager. 

He sneezes again and Youngho has no choice but to soil yet another handkerchief, just to blow his nose. 

It has always been customary for the royal families to take suppressants as a safeguard against inappropriate relationships and unplanned pregnancies. They dull his sense of smell, diminish his scent to others and, most importantly, prevent him from going into a rut. 

Truthfully, it is a practice that Youngho always thought was outdated and elitist, but at the same time he has never been one to break tradition. The medication only really bothers him when the side effect of non-stop sneezing threatens to turn the dull ache in his head into a full blown migraine. 

Aside from even more pills, one of the few ways to alleviate the side effects is to take a walk in some fresh air. Though it isn't wise for Youngho to do so, considering that he isn't in familiar territory. So, Youngho decides to stay in bed. 

He fumbles with the control panel at his bedside, pressing several buttons at once until a screen descends from a hidden panel in the ceiling in the place of a television. Unfortunately for him, every channel replays the footage of him and his future husband meeting for the first time; strangers commenting on his looks, his clothes, the supposed spark (or lack thereof) in his eyes upon meeting the other prince. Youngho presses twice as many buttons to turn the TV off. 

His resolve to stay in bed doesn't last long, as the painting on the wall seems to be judging him for being a good boy who always followed the rules. Surely Youngho can't let his betrothed think that he's a coward, so he changes into simple travelling clothes and heads out onto his balcony that leads to the private gardens. 

He forgets to take his glasses off.

//

After only ten minutes of sitting on a bench in the gardens, Youngho’s sinuses are clear and he wishes he could sleep outside instead. Immediately, Youngho berates himself for such a foolish thought, the lectures on proper procedure and security risks never too far from his thoughts. 

“You're no longer a boy,” his tutor had told him the day after his eighth birthday. “You are a prince.” 

Youngho, the adult prince, sighs and is about to leave when fast approaching footsteps keep him frozen in place. 

“Oh,” the person says, eyes widening in surprise before his face takes on a more neutral expression. It's a practiced move turned into habit that Youngho recognizes because he's mastered it himself. Apparently ‘How to Keep Your Emotions in Check 101’ was a mandatory class for all royal children, regardless of the kingdom they grew up in. "You must be lost." 

Of all the people in the palace, he had accidentally come face to face with Lee Taeyong, omega Crown Prince of the Western kingdom and his soon-to-be husband. 

Several thoughts cross Youngho's mind at once. One is to run. Another is to smooth down his clothes to look more presentable. Or he should just slowly back away without breaking eye contact. He's about to shatter centuries of tradition, and put the alliance of their nations at risk by fleeing the scene and calling off the engagement when Taeyong continues. 

"Are you a part of the Eastern Prince's entourage?" 

"I'm -" Youngho falters. "My name is Johnny, Your Highness." The lie falls from Youngho's lips without a second thought. His words become more sure as he speaks, years and years of training taking over. He bows, the proper etiquette, and continues. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I must have gotten confused while trying to find my way to Prince Youngho's room."

Taeyong hums, accepting the lie at face value. “It is easy to get lost in the gardens at night. My mother was always so fond of Alice in Wonderland so she had a maze built here. Fortunately for you, no-one has been beheaded in the last two hundred years.”

“I apologize again, Your Highness,” Youngho replies, not even having to pretend to look uncomfortable at the thought of a guillotine. Hopefully lying to a prince doesn’t warrant as severe a punishment. “I won’t take up any more of your time.” He bows and waits for Taeyong to dismiss him, but he doesn’t get so lucky.

“Your prince,” Taeyong starts, holding his hands behind his back. “Do you like him?”

“Of course,” Youngho says. He can’t help but add, “Though it would be treason for me to say otherwise, Your Highness.”

He’s taken by surprise when Taeyong laughs loudly with his mouth open wide. It’s the first time Youngho has heard it in person. He hadn’t given it much thought, but he certainly could never have imagined that his future husband’s laugh would sound so… dorky. 

“I’m not sure exactly what it is you do for the prince, but I can see now why he keeps you around.” Taeyong’s eyes are soft and kind, a gaze that Youngho has never been on the receiving end of until now. “I suppose I couldn’t trouble you for a secret about your prince before you take your leave?”

“Well,” Youngho starts, “since you shared something about your mother, I'll do the same on behalf of my prince. This isn’t a secret, but Crown Prince Youngho’s mother was a commoner. Our people don’t speak of it any longer because it doesn’t matter. She has our hearts.”

“And the prince’s heart as well?” 

“The Crown Prince loves his mother very much, Your Highness. Her Majesty is most precious to him.” Maybe Youngho had lied for a lot of their conversation, but there isn't anything more true about him than that. 

“That’s very nice to hear. Thank you for being so forthcoming.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness.” 

Youngho knows a dismissal when he hears one so he bows, turns on his heel, and leaves. 

When Youngho gets into bed, the portrait hanging across from his bed doesn’t seem so imposing anymore.

//

The next morning Prince Youngho and Prince Taeyong are scheduled to have a private outdoor breakfast. Privacy means that they are far enough away so that no-one outside the palace grounds can hear their conversation, but if there happens to be reporters or paparazzi around they would definitely be able to take as many photos as they want. 

Youngho can’t believe he had to wake up an hour earlier than usual so that his team could put makeup on him and style his hair. His tutor had prepared him for almost every possible scenario he might encounter on his journey to becoming King… except for how uncomfortable it would feel to have concealer forcefully blended into the skin under his eyes at six-thirty in the morning. 

He’s always been a night owl, but sleeping in a foreign bed didn’t help calm his nerves. And neither had lying about his identity to the man sitting across from him.

When the engagement had been finalized, Youngho was handed a dossier on Taeyong. He was aware that the Eastern Prince was partial to sweets, but Youngho didn't know that his betrothed is practically addicted to sugar. He tries not to cringe as Taeyong adds a second teaspoon of sugar to his hot chocolate followed by a handful of marshmallows. 

"I should've brought more chocolate with me," Youngho says, making sure to keep the conversation cordial. 

"Thank you again for all the gifts," Taeyong replies. "My favorite dessert was the macaroons." He sips his hot chocolate before adding a few more marshmallows. Johnny does he best not to look horrified, but he must fail because Taeyong adds, "You don't have much of a sweet tooth?" 

"That wasn't in my file?" 

Johnny feels the tiniest sense of satisfaction when Taeyong does a sort of half laugh. 

"No, it was not." Taeyong leans back in his chair. It's not a slouch, but it's the first time he's not stiff as a board around Youngho. "You know what else wasn't in your file? That your mother was a commoner."

"I guess they didn't think it was relevant," Youngho says carefully, pausing to take a bite of the croissant in front of him. "She was a nurse when my father met her. He broke his arm and didn't want my grandfather to know, so he went to a small clinic instead of seeing the royal physician. You didn't hear this from me, of course, but His Majesty was known to be quite the charmer. Even then my mother didn't treat him as anything more than a patient. My father has always said that it was love at first sight."

Taeyong's laugh is the last thing Youngho expects to hear and he quirks an eyebrow at his fiance. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Taeyong apologizes, but he's smiling. "It's a lovely story and I was happy to hear it, but the irony isn't lost on you is it? Your parents meet by chance, fall in love, and get married against what I'm sure were impossible odds ,and now you're sitting here with me for the betterment for both our kingdoms, but certainly not for love."

"Who says I'm not sitting here for love?" 

"I'm not sure I follow," Taeyong replies, intrigued. 

"I'm sitting here partially because I love my parents, this is something they approve of all after all, but mostly I'm sitting here because I love my people. They deserve a king who can give them a happy life, a peaceful life where their stomachs are full and borders are safe and they can spend Sunday mornings dissecting the photos those men behind the gate are taking of us because they don't have anything else to worry about. If our marriage can help ensure that then there's nowhere else I'd rather be sitting than across the table from you."

"Well," Taeyong says with a soft voice. "I think that calls for a toast." He makes a small gesture with his hand and two glasses of champagne appear in a flash. Taeyong raises his glass in the air and says, "To love."

"To love," Johnny echoes. 

They clink their glasses together with the sound of camera shutters going off in the background. 

//

Antiquated as it was, it had been decided that since Prince Taeyong was the omega he would move to the Eastern Kingdom. Youngho had agreed to those terms for now, but unbeknownst to Taeyong, he had thought about splitting their time between the two kingdoms. Maybe he isn't quite in love with his fiance, but he can't say that he hasn't grown fond of him during their time together. 

That's what makes the guilt even worse. 

The first time he'd met Taeyong as Johnny, it had been an accident. So had the second. But the third, the fourth, and now the fifth and last time had been intentional. 

Youngho would change into the same travelling outfit and don his glasses before making his way to the garden. If Taeyong wanted to see him then he’d appear, and if not Youngho would be left alone to question his own deception. 

The guilt ate away at him every time, but meeting Taeyong as Johnny meant that he could see a side of him that Youngho never could. As a prince, Youngho barely see the glimpses of the cute, funny, clumsy Taeyong. He could chip away at the regal facade, little by little. 

But as a staff member, the walls protecting Taeyong from the public eye had large bay windows that Johnny could look through. 

"I suppose I'll being seeing you more after this," Taeyong says. It's the night before they make the journey to the Eastern Kingdom and they're on the same bench Youngho sat on that first night. "Unless your prince is jealous and keeps me locked away in a tower somewhere."

"Do you think the Crown Prince would do that, Your Highness?" 

Youngho's heart thunders in his chest. Maybe fond isn't the right way to describe his feelings for Taeyong. Maybe he had inherited some of his father's ‘head over heels’ genes. (Not a technical term by any stretch of the imagination, but Youngho thinks that the lovesick trait has to be genetic. There was no other way to explain it.)

"No, I don't think he would," Taeyong says. Sometimes Taeyong brought sweets to their meetings. Once it was gummy bears and another it was a small tub of ice cream. Tonight he'd brought a lollipop with him, leaving it on the inside his cheek while he spoke (which sometimes made it very hard for Youngho to think). “If I tell you something will you promise to keep it a secret?”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Even though he should be relieved that Taeyong doesn’t think he would turn him into a modern day Rapunzel, the knot in his stomach still tightens. 

“Even from the Crown Prince?” Taeyong teases.

“I would risk treason, Your Highness.” Truthfully, Youngho would risk a lot more, just for Taeyong to finally say what he was keeping secret out loud. 

“I think I have a crush on your prince.”

Youngho clenches his jaw lest it drop open. “A crush, Your Highness?”

“It’s foolish, isn’t it? The way I’m describing it seems so juvenile, but that’s the truth. I have a crush on the Crown Prince of the Eastern Kingdom.” It’s fortunate that Taeyong has the tendency to ramble because he doesn’t take notice of the shell-shocked look on Youngho’s face. “You know what changed my mind? The conversation we had over breakfast the day after we first met. I asked him about his mother and I could tell how much he loves and admires her and the King from the way he spoke about them. It made me see him in a completely different light and I have you to thank for that.”

“Your Highness, I don’t think -” Taeyong cuts him off.

“If you hadn’t told me that the Queen was a commoner I wouldn’t have asked Prince Youngho about her.”

“I suppose that’s true, Your Highness, but I -”

“Oh, shush,” Taeyong cuts him off again. “That’s not the only thing I have to thank you for, Johnny. You’ve been a really good confidant.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Youngho says, feeling queasy. “It was my pleasure.”

“We both have an early day tomorrow so I’ll take my leave.” Youngho waits for Taeyong to stand before following suit. “Though I’m sure you’ll have to be up much earlier than me. Does the prince value punctuality?”

“He does. The prince values everyone’s time and tries not to waste it.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting anyway,” Taeyong says with a small smile. “Especially not tomorrow.” He looks up at the sky like he’s trying to memorize how the constellations look on his side of the world, from the balcony of the palace he grew up in. Youngho is in awe of his beauty. “Goodnight, Johnny. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“Goodnight,” Youngho replies to Taeyong’s retreating form. “You’ll be seeing me much sooner than you think.”

Youngho doesn’t sleep at all that night. He lays in bed staring at the portrait of Taeyong on the wall and wonders how he got into this mess. Youngho wonders if he’ll ever be able to make it up to him. 

//

The people take to Taeyong like they did to Youngho’s mother. They adore him almost instantly and even though he never voiced his concern out loud Youngho can tell that Taeyong is relieved. Taeyong is well on his way to being beloved and it makes Youngho proud. That isn’t any of his doing, it is all Taeyong. He smiles at the cameras, waves to the people, is attentive at every interview, kind to all the staff he comes into contact with. They couldn’t have hoped for a smoother transition. 

And yet every night Youngho goes to bed with an ache in his chest because he has earned Taeyong’s respect though dishonorable means. Maybe he was becoming the king that his people deserved, but he had another lifelong goal to achieve. Youngho wants to become the husband that Taeyong deserves as well. 

It is time to tell him the truth. 

He knocks on the door of Taeyong’s room and hopes he’s still awake, the guards outside the door disappearing with a flick of Youngho’s wrist. 

“Just a moment,” Taeyong calls before opening the door shortly after, dressed in simple cotton pajamas. The burgundy fabric reminds Youngho of the roses from the garden. “I had a feeling it would be you.” Taeyong steps aside to let Youngho in and closes the door behind him. 

“Oh?”

Taeyong hums, taking a seat on the plush armchair in the sitting area. “You’ve been distracted the last few days. Have I made an incorrect observation?”

“No,” Youngho shakes his head. “You haven’t.”

Maybe Youngho has done a despicable thing, but he isn’t a despicable person so he lays all the cards out on the table. He recounts the first night they met from his perspective, admits that even though he knew he was wrong that he kept wanting to meet him under false pretenses. 

Even though there’s some relief in finally confessing his sins the everpresent knot in his stomach tightens even more as he watches the expression on Taeyong’s face go from disbelief, to anger, before finally settling on unreadable. 

The timing is god awful, but Youngho can’t keep anything to himself any longer. 

He professes his feelings for Taeyong, tells him that he’s a fool in love and a fool for lying to his love. Youngho tells Taeyong that he’s so happy, but at the same time he can’t express his joy outwardly because of the lies. He says sorry again and again, standing while Taeyong sits and looks up at him with coldness behind his eyes. 

Youngho talks himself in circles until he can’t talk anymore and the silence that follows is deafening. 

“I can’t believe I couldn’t recognize you by scent,” Taeyong says after a few agonizing minutes. “The smell of the flowers in the garden must’ve covered it up.”

“But the suppressants how could you -”

“I only have one question for you.” Taeyong’s voice is clipped. “Why Johnny?”

“It was my maternal grandfather’s name,” Youngho replies. “My mother always said that if she had a son she would name him after her father, but it wasn’t deemed appropriate for me. She only uses it when we're alone, just the two of us.”

Youngho feels like he's being dissected by Taeyong's state, like maybe Taeyong could discern if he was telling the truth just by looking at him. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” is all Taeyong has to say in return. 

//

It hurts Youngho more that Taeyong doesn’t yell at him. He doesn’t sulk, or cry or throw things. He eats all his meals with Youngho, shows up on time to all their public appearances, and holds Youngho's hand as they're paraded around to be seen by the masses. Taeyong simply ignores him whenever it’s possible and Youngho is at a complete loss.

A day turns into a week and one week turns into two, while Youngho spends all his free time thinking of ways to get Taeyong to forgive him. The gifts aren’t working. All the macaroons in the world couldn't break the Crown Prince of the Western Kingdom. Neither could flowers, their finest silks, or a very overpriced camera that Youngho had heard him mention once in passing. It seemed that Taeyong would not be bought and even though he falls into a restless sleep every night Youngho is still proud of him. The world is still too attached to omega stereotypes, but maybe with a Crown Prince like Taeyong ruling by his side, things could start to change for the better. 

After exactly two weeks and three days of not speaking to each other Youngho receives word that Taeyong is ill. 

"It seems that the Western Prince has gone into heat, Your Highness."

To Youngho the words mean nothing and everything at the same time. He had received lessons about this as soon as he had presented as an alpha. Puberty wasn't a fun time for any young boy, but his was only made worse by receiving sex education from his tutor. Youngho knew that him and Taeyong would've had to deal with this scenario eventually. But eventually wasn't supposed to be in the middle of their own personal cold war, a fortnight before the wedding. 

"Has he asked for anything?" Youngho asks the staff member standing at the foot of his bed. He remains laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

Yuta has been with Youngho since the beginning, the jack of all trades. He goes everywhere Youngho goes, opening car doors and placing a hand on the small of Youngho's back whenever things became overwhelming. Yuta lays out his clothes in the morning and makes sure he always ate his meals on time, but his favorite part of the job is reminding Youngho just how much of a dumbass he cab be. That's what childhood best friends were for. 

There’s an unnatural pause in the conversation. They both know what Youngho was really asking. 

"At this time the Western Prince has not requested the presence of his alpha, but he is being kept as comfortable as possible by the palace physicians. All non emergent cases are being referred to the nearest clinic so that every member of the medical staff is available to Prince Taeyong, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Yuta. That will be all."

"If I may be so bold, Your Highness." Youngho sighs. "Perhaps the Eastern Prince would appreciate a more active approach to you trying to get back in his good graces."

"And what do you suggest?" Youngho sits up ever so slightly. 

"My Prince is aware that I could never tell His Highness what to do, but I've heard that if you knock on someone's door that they are very likely to answer it."

Youngho laughs. "Old friend, when did you get so wise?" 

"I've also heard that some things cannot be taught, Your Highness. Even if given the chance to study at the knee of some of the brightest scholars of our nation."

"Get out before I throw you in the dungeons."

"Your Highness, the dungeons have not been in use for more than a century. I'm sure all the locks are covered in rust. That doesn’t sound like the proper place to hold a prisoner. The odds of escape are probably very high."

"Goodnight, Yuta," Youngho says, getting out of bed to forcefully remove the other man from his sleeping chambers. 

"Goodnight, Your Highness," Yuta replies from the other side of the threshold. His smile is devious and annoying and Youngho cherishes it all the same. "In case Your Highness needs directions, the Western Prince's room is -" Youngho slams the door in his face. 

//

It’s the middle of the night and Youngho is staring at the door of Taeyong’s room. His arm feels like it weighs a thousand pounds when he finally knocks, the sound too loud for the empty hallway.

Silence.

He knocks again. “Prince Taeyong, it’s me -”

“I know,” Taeyong cuts him off. “I can smell you.”

“May I come in?” Youngho tries, only to be shut down.

“No. It’s easier to talk to you this way.”

“Oh,” Youngho says, sliding down to sit on the floor instead, his back leaning against the hardwood. “I’m sorry.”

“For my involuntary hormonal reaction? That’s hardly your fault.”

“I’m still sorry,” Youngho apologizes again. “But I must say that I don't quite understand how this could have happened. To my knowledge Western royalty also take suppressants to prevent such... Unpleasantries.” 

“Unpleasant is certainly one way to describe it. I’ve been running a fever for two days and the effects of the assortment of pills I’ve been prescribed only last for so long.” Youngho hears Taeyong sit down on the floor too. “Your information is correct, but in preparation for our nuptials I was advised to stop taking the suppressants to make myself more appealing to you for our wedding night.”

“Taeyong,” Youngho is horrified. “I would have never insisted that we consummate our marriage. The East had always valued tradition, but I value you over most things. You must know that, right?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Eastern Prince,” Taeyong chuckles. “I did it for myself too. You smell absolutely intoxicating.”

For a split second Youngho forgets why he knocked on Taeyong’s door in the first place. Maybe he even forgets to breathe. “That’s,” Youngho uncharacteristically stumbles over his words. “Please forgive me.”

“I already have,” Taeyong admits. “As soon as you came to my door I forgave you. That’s all I was waiting for.”

Youngho presses his forehead against the door and closes his eyes for a moment, imagining that Taeyong is doing the same on the other side. “I’m sorry.” 

“No more lies, Youngho,” Taeyong warns. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Yes, more than anything.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re suffering and I can take it away.” Taeyong remains silent so Youngho continues. “There will come a time when you’re ill or injured, when you’re sad or scared, or frustrated and I won’t be able to fix it. Your pain is yours and I can help you bear it, but I won’t ever be able to take it from you.”

“And how much of my pain would the Eastern Prince be willing to bear?”

“All of it.”

The door opens.

Youngho looks up from the floor to meet Taeyong’s gaze and even with his senses dulled he’s still drawn to him. Perhaps gravity is a work of fiction and the only thing keeping Youngho on Earth is Taeyong’s hand holding his, pulling him inside. Science would never be able to explain why Youngho felt like his heart might burst when Taeyong presses their lips together for the very first time.

There’s no artificial light in the room, only the warm glow of candles and the smell of burning incense helping Taeyong relax. Youngho feels the way he shudders as his lips move down the column of Taeyong's neck.

“Hot,” Taeyong says by way of explanation when Youngho lifts the white linen dressing gown up and over his head to reveal that he isn’t wearing anything underneath, pale skin illuminated by candlelight. 

“You’re beautiful,” Youngho replies.

“I trust you.”

The words are almost more than Youngho can bear and he takes Taeyong into his arms and crosses a second threshold to carry him to the bed. He lays Taeyong down gently, as if he might break, and vows, “I will always take care of you.”

It’s nothing like Youngho expected.

He is attuned to Taeyong’s body more than his own, every sigh and every shiver demanding his full attention.There is only one focus and one goal, to give Taeyong everything he wants. They exist in a bubble and there isn't anything he isn't willing to do for Taeyong in that moment. Youngho would gladly give Taeyong the breath from his own chest if he'd ask for it.

Every breathy, "again" that falls from Taeyong's lips is a command that Youngho can only obey. Nothing else matters except for Taeyong's pleasure. 

There is no frenzy to it, none of the hectic, haphazard desperation that Youngho had heard of before. Everything he does is intentional. The way he rocks his hips as Taeyong clings to him, never stopping as Taeyong rides the wave of pleasure again and again. When he lays back and pulls Taeyong on top of him, moving his hand in between their bodies until Taeyong is crying out for him. How he wipes the tears from Taeyong's cheeks while he pushes inside him, Taeyong's body spent, but still needing more. He whispers words of praise onto Taeyong's skin and seals every promise with a kiss. 

It lasts for hours and Youngho barely notices. 

Taeyong falls asleep just as the first rays of light creep in from under the curtains. Youngho doesn't bother with clothes, walking into the living area and if he wasn’t trying to stay quiet he would've laughed out loud. Yuta had left his outfit for the day in Taeyong's room instead of his. Along with a hearty breakfast is a handwritten note informing him that all he is free from all royal duties for the next few days.

Yuta might have also implied that he deserved to raise because the walls between the living area and the sleeping chambers are not soundproof. Youngho is inclined to grant his request. 

//

Youngho spends the entirety of the two days in Taeyong's room with no contact with the world outside except for Yuta's notes to inform him that everything is fine. 

Taeyong doesn't eat anything that wouldn't qualify as a dessert and he laughs when Youngho tells him that Yuta had suggested they raise the tariff on sugar to compensate for how much the Prince ate. For his flippant attitude Taeyong is rewarded with a lecture about the consequences of not eating a balanced diet and the likelihood of early onset diabetes. Taeyong thinks that's enough talking for now so he crawls into Youngho's lap to kiss him quiet. 

They talk about their childhoods. When Taeyong was nine he couldn't sleep so he snuck out of his room to read in the library which resulted in a full scale manhunt when his mother had come to wake him up in the morning only to find his bed empty. Johnny tells the story of how him and Yuta had rebelled and tried to run away when they were sixteen. They made it all the way to the outskirts of the capital city only to discover the King had been waiting for them the entire time. The following two months were miserable because the only time Youngho was permitted to leave his room was for lessons. It was the longest time he and Yuta had ever spent apart. 

At the end of the second day, Youngho tries to leave for his own room. 

Taeyong tells him to stay. 

//

They wear white suits on their wedding day. Taeyong's has a cape attached lined with red to symbolize the Eastern Kingdom. The ring he slides on Youngho's finger is adorned with sapphires from the oldest riverbeds of the West. 

It's the wedding of the century. 

The citizens of both kingdoms gush about how radiant the Princes look. The people glued to their television screens watch as Youngho walks down the aisle to wait for Taeyong and everyone is entranced when the two grooms first make eye contact from across the room. The close up shot Youngho's face goes viral and the wedding trends on all social media platforms worldwide. 

For days to come people would talk about the guest list, ranging from royalty to world leaders and A-list celebrities. They spoke about the fashion, the food, the grand floral arrangements that showcased only the finest roses from the Western Queen's garden. The food was prepared by a world renowned chef who created a special fusion menu that showcased the culinary traditions of both kingdoms. But of course the star of the reception was the cake, seven feet tall with a different flavor for every tier because Taeyong couldn't choose just one. 

Youngho's memories don't reflect any of any of that. He can recall the way his heart swelled in his chest, growing with every step down the aisle that Taeyong took towards him. Youngho remembers their first kiss as a married couple, the way Taeyong looked up at him teary eyed and so full of love. He'll never forget the music that played during their first dance or the sound of Taeyong's laughter when he playfully spun him around like a ballroom dancer. 

The world would always remember the grand spectacle that was the royal wedding of the Eastern and Western Crown Princes. 

What Youngho remembers about his wedding is Taeyong. 

//

Youngho is twelve years old. 

The clock on the wall reads six which means it's one hour until dinner and thirty minutes until the end of his final lesson. 

Calligraphy was his least favorite subject, but one of the pillars of Eastern values is tradition. 

He's hyper aware of his posture, careful not to slouch as he sits cross legged on his cushion while his tutor evaluates his latest attempt. 

"Passable, Your Highness," his tutor says, rolling up the scroll and placing it next to him on the desk.

There's a brief moment where the young prince thinks he might be dismissed early. 

"Your Highness will practice one more quote before dinner."

"Yes, scholar," Youngho replies, preparing a new scroll. 

"Love is like a rose," Youngho starts to write. "When pressed between two lifetimes, it will last forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations to all participants for another successful round of NCT Write Write!
> 
> A big thank you to the mods for organizing this fest and for being so generous with their time.
> 
> Thank you to the prompter, I hope you enjoyed this ♡


End file.
